


needing is one thing, but getting, getting's another

by starkidpatronus



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Reincarnation, Short One Shot, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 14:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11465268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkidpatronus/pseuds/starkidpatronus
Summary: Arthur's been back for six months, and has now caught the common cold. He's learned a lot, including that it's not apparently acceptable for him to feel...certain things for his former manservant. And he keeps thinking that maybe those certain feelings are returned...but then Merlin keeps pulling away.





	needing is one thing, but getting, getting's another

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a short little fic about these two idiots we all love so dearly. The title is from "Needing/Getting" by OK Go. Hope you enjoy! :) <3

     “’Made you some soup,” Merlin declares as he enters the room. He walks over the side of the bed and orders, “Scooch.”

     “Merlin,” Arthur laments, “you shouldn’t get too close to me; I don’t want to get you sick, too.” He moves over anyways, though, and Merlin climbs up onto the bed, lying beside Arthur.

     “You won’t,” Merlin counters easily, making himself comfortable. “I don’t get sick easily, and if I do, I can cure it with a spell or potion. One of the perks of being the most powerful sorcerer of all time, you know.”

     “Well, I suppose it does have to come with _some_ perks,” Arthur muses with just a trace of humor, but still too exhausted to put much heart into it.

     “Now,” Merlin says once he’s situated on the bed, bowl of soup balancing on his lap. He dips the spoon into the bowl, then brings it up into the space between them. “Open up.”

     “Merlin, you don’t have to do that,” Arthur says tiredly. “I’ve been back for six months. You’re not my _servant_ anymore; I can feed myself.”

     “You’re sick,” Merlin states squarely. “I’m helping you because I _want_ to; not because I have to.”

     Arthur sighs, looking doubtfully at the spoonful of soup, then back to Merlin. But Merlin just raises his eyebrows expectantly, so Arthur rolls his eyes, leans forward, and sips the soup.

     He manages to spill some, so Merlin gently places his hand on the back of Arthur’s head, keeping it in place as he brings the spoon to his lips. Arthur’s heart flips over at the soft touch of Merlin’s hand on the nape of his neck, but he ignores the sensation.

     “You take such good care of me,” Arthur remarks quietly as Merlin refills the spoon. “Why?”

     Merlin shrugs, cracking a grin. “Force of habit?”

     But Arthur just keeps right on looking at Merlin, making unwavering eye contact and waiting for a real answer. Merlin gulps, bringing the spoon to Arthur’s mouth again. “’Cause…I’m your friend.”

     “Right,” Arthur replies, his lips encircling the spoon. He slurps loudly, then drags his lips slowly off the spoon, looking up at Merlin from under his eyelashes. “ _Friend_.”

     Merlin locks eyes with him, apparently unable to look away, and gulps. Arthur's eyes follows the movement of Merlin's Adam's Apple, then meets his gaze again. And—it happens again, another moment where their eyes are locked and their breathing is short and Merlin leans in an infinitesimal amount, enough for Arthur’s eyes to start fluttering closed—

     And then Merlin pulls back. Again.

     Arthur sighs as Merlin starts stuttering about making more soup. Frustration creeping into his voice, Arthur asks, “ _Why_ do you keep doing that?”

     Merlin freezes. “Doing what?”

     “Pulling _away_ ,” Arthur answers, fed-up enough to finally confront the truth out loud. “Every time we have a moment, where it feels like we’re about to make this more, you _always_ pull away. And I just—Am I doing something wrong?”

     “Arthur, I—”

     “No, just—tell me, am I reading the signals wrong?” Arthur asks earnestly. “Because I _want_ this, Merlin, and I keep thinking you might too, but you pull back every time we’re about to act on it, and—just—I just want to know— _Are_ we just friends? Are we more? Where—where are we? Because I—”

     Merlin’s mouth on his own cuts him off.

     Arthur’s head is _spinning_ , and Merlin’s lips are soft and skilled and _real_ against his own, and for a moment, it’s all too overwhelming for Arthur to register much of it. Once he adjusts to the reality of the it all, though, he wastes no time in bringing his right hand up to cup Merlin’s cheek, moving his mouth against Merlin’s, throwing everything he has into the desperate press of lips and teeth and tongue.

     The initial passion boils down to a slower push and pull of lips, until they’re pulling away with a soft smack of lips, eyes still closed. Arthur takes a shuddering breath, then slowly opens his eyes. He watches as Merlin’s eyes softly flutter open too, and when they meet each other’s gaze, they both giggle softly.

     “I’m sorry,” Merlin says sheepishly after a beat. “I didn’t know how you felt; I thought you _might_ love me back, but I wasn’t sure if _I_ was just misreading signals, too. And then, even if you _did_ , I wasn’t sure if you were ready, and I didn’t want to rush you, and—”

     “You love me?”

     Merlin looks up from his hands at that, brow furrowed. “Well, I—of course, Arthur. Of course I do.”

     Arthur’s heart clenches, then soars, and he can’t stop the widest, stupidest grin from stretching across his face. “I love you, too,” he states, the words finally rolling off his tongue the way they’ve always wanted to, no longer forced back behind firmly clenched teeth. Free.

     Merlin grins breathlessly back, as if he doesn’t quite believe this is happening. Arthur doesn’t blame him at all for that.

     “So, um—where are we, then?” Arthur asks for a second time, only this time, he’s smiling, and he lets his tone have just a touch of flirtatiousness.

     “How about…?” Merlin muses, then pulls Arthur in by the back of his neck and holds him close, letting their breaths mingle. He whispers, “…right here?” and pulls Arthur in again.

     Arthur goes willingly, smiling into the kiss, more than satisfied with that answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, go ahead and press that "Kudos" button and leave a comment! <3


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